Light of the world

We've had quite a few power outages lately.  The second to last one was a "grey out" - some people had light, others didn't, and a few just had very weak power.  I found myself in the latter category.  My neighbors below me had full power, and it surprised them to learn that I couldn't put the football game on the cable signal we share.  For them the electricity was fine, but up here it just wouldn't stay on and I finally unplugged the box completely.

It took the power company over 12 hours to respond - which meant we were without power and water overnight.  I left my curtains open all evening to try to make use of the final bits of light left in the sky as the sun finally ducked under the horizon.  Then, as it became more apparent that we wouldn't be getting our power back anytime soon, I pulled candles out of my closet - sharing a few with the teenage girls' house that was without power as well.

I had a small amount of illumination from the overhead lights in my kitchen, and I briefly considered closing my curtains.  Would that help keep the light in and make the room brighter?  I quickly realized that that's not how light works.  Reflecting it might help the situation, but containing it doesn't make it brighter.  Trying to contain the light within my apartment would not make it any brighter, it would just make the outside world darker.

What a simple concept, one I'm sure others have expounded on at length.  But it was a moment of illumination (haha - no pun intended) for me.  Hiding our lights under a basket (Mt 5:14-17) not only deprives the world of your light, but also does nothing to make the light brighter for yourself.  We must let our light shine before others.

This also reminds me of the bright stars from my previous blog post (Darkness and dawns) - how I've observed that is when the darkness is deep that the stars stand out so clearly.  When I am in that darkness before the dawn, maybe I should look around for those points of light that remind me to hope that the light continues to shine brightly, even though its warmth seems so long in coming.

And, in these days when the world seems to be a darker place than usual, maybe we are to be those points of light for other people to see and take hope in.  As the world seems to get darker, may we continue to shine brightly - not fearing the darkness, but faithfully shining on.  And, like the rural night sky full of stars, may it be amazing to look around and see how many of us there are.

A closing thought, one I never pay much mind to - but actually, when the sun is in our sky, the other stars are still up there too, shining on.  We just usually can't see them due to the brilliance of the great light.  How wonderful that when God's light shines in its blinding brilliance, our lights will continue to shine too, but they will be nothing in comparison to his great light.

“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." Matthew 5:14-17

Darkness and dawns

Is it truly darkest before the dawn?  Or is it just one more platitude, made up to try to get us through hard times?  I never gave it much thought until I lived here in rural southern Mexico and observed the sky at night.  When I find myself walking home at night, I sometimes pause in awe at the twinkling of the stars.  We grow up hearing about how stars twinkle, but I had never seen such an amazing display of rapid-fire colors in the sky until I moved here.

However, there is something that stops me in my tracks, and that is the innumerable amount of stars in the predawn hours. There are so many of them!  It is challenging to even make out major constellations among the many other brilliant points of light.  It seems to me that if I could hardly see any stars when I lived in a big city like Chicago due to all the light pollution, the sky truly must be darker at the times when I can see more stars.

Just after I had my super-challenging week (Every valley), I was stepping outside early one morning to start some laundry when a shooting star caught my eye.  And then another fell, and another - about every minute or two.  I stood there for ten minutes in absolute wonder at whatever meteorological event I was witnessing.  The highlight was when one streak of light broke into pieces to produce two trails side-by-side before disappearing.

Dawn was about an hour away, but the dark night that allowed the brilliant stars to be seen reminded me of what a hard week I had just been through - and how amazing of a week I was currently having.  Things were going so well, from planned events turning out better than ever expected to long shots receiving prompter positive results than I'd allowed myself to hope for.  It appeared that things can seem to be at their worst just before they are about to improve.

So, despite how trite old adages can seem in the midst hard times, I think it must be true that it is darkest just before the dawn.  But even though the moment just before dawn is the longest we will go without the light, we must continue to hold on to hope that the darkness is not forever.  The light is coming.

Photo from @Quadratinoaxaca of Hierve el Agua in Oaxaca.

"You brought all things into being and know the secrets of the furthest galaxies as well as those within the hidden universe of the human heart.  May we always hope in your faithful love, which surrounds us all our days.  Amen"

- from A Guide to Prayer for All Who Walk with God.